


Seaside Rendezvous

by a_scholar



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Age of Sail, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, M/M, Mid-1700s, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-03 12:38:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19464178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_scholar/pseuds/a_scholar
Summary: After running into trouble, Javi gets on a ship bound for the British Colonies. To escape harassment by the ship's crew, he turns to Mr Lambert for help, a wealthy and impossibly captivating passenger.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Contains brief descriptions of sexual harassment and attempted rape. Just a heads-up for sensitive readers, but it's nothing extremely graphic.

The squeak of a rat somewhere too close makes Javi freeze in place. He's trying to blend in against cargo bales and barrells, cursing his timing. He should have waited longer before venturing forth in the vast cargo hold that extends all through the length of the ship on its lowest level.

Ever since they left the port of Santa Cruz in Tenerife, he has been hiding mostly in the aft of the ship's hold, where hardly anyone comes. The pantry is located in the middle, though, so that's where he was heading to steal something to eat.

Now he's caught between cargo and the pantry. The sound of a man singing is coming closer and closer. He never expected the singer to come down there, assuming the voice to belong to a passenger. But maybe it is the cook instead, singing while working?

The voice isn't singing continuously, instead starting and stopping, repeating some parts over and over in different ways. As if practicing. It gets louder and a light approaches, and Javi tries to make himself even flatter against the cargo, holding his breath.

There is no way to escape the light that hits his face, blinding his eyes that have become used to darkness. The singing cuts off, there's a gasp, and blinking desperately, Javi sees the shape of a tall man holding a lantern. Slowly, as it becomes slightly more bearable to look at the light, he sees more details. No, it is not the cook, but definitely a passenger. Possibly a nobleman, but it's still hard to distinguish the clothing. The man has a short dark beard and a moustache, and he's staring at Javi motionless.

Javi swallows, blinking some more. Is the man ever going to say anything? The only sounds are the constant creaking of the ship and muffled sounds of men laughing above. But when someone finally speaks, it's not the singer.

”A fucking stowaway!”

Javi turns his head to see the real Cook pointing at him.

”I'm sorry, sir,” the Cook says. ”If you'll just let me grab hold of him, sir? He's clearly a stowaway.”

”No! Just—” the man looks at Javi with wide eyes, but then lets out a heavy sigh. ”I'm sure he'll come willingly without any grabbing.”

It's curious, but the notion that the man would feel sorry for Javi, and sorry about having played a part in Javi being discovered, is a bit ridiculous.

They start the climb up, the Cook followed by Javi followed by the stranger. Climbing the first ladder, Javi's foot slips. He must be stiff from sitting down so much. The man climbing behind him grabs the back of his thigh, steadying him for a second.

Even though Javi hadn't seen much when sneaking onto the ship in the black of night, he knows the approximate layout of a British merchant vessel like this. First they reach the narrow orlop deck, which is the lowest deck of the ship above the cargo hold, used to store ropes and sails. Then up to the lower deck that holds cabins for the officers and the seamen's bunk beds. Glancing at the couple of crew members that they pass, Javi notices stunned faces.

”Caught one!” the Cook shouts, and there's laughter.

Next are steep stairs to the upper deck, which along with some guns holds cabins for passengers, and the galley, or kitchen. He can already smell fresh salty air from above. Finally they reach the weather deck. On it, at the bow of the ship is the forecastle, a raised deck, under which is a room that is a recreation area for the seamen. The Captain's great cabin is at the stern at the other end.

The light hurts his head at first. It hasn't been that long in the dark and damp hold, but it feels like it's been forever since he's seen the sun.

Seamen start gathering around them, then officers and what are clearly passengers of high rank. Then the Captain comes through, pulling on a navy blue coat with gold buttons as he walks.

”What the devil is this?” The Captain has a darker skin tone that Javi would have imagined for a captain of a British vessel, but perhaps he originates from the East Indies. He's tall and slim, elegant somehow, long greyish hair powdered and brushed back under the captain's hat, tied at the back.

”A stowaway, Captain Amrull, sir,” the Cook explains. ”Mr Lambert found him in the hold.”

Mr Lambert, huh? Javi fights the urge to glance behind him to see if the man followed him up to the deck.

”Have you any English?” the Captain asks.

”Yes, sir.” He has some. It's been necessary when dealing with British merchants, but he's not as good at it as he'd like. And the seamen's slang and thick accents have been near incomprehensible to him whenever he's heard voices on the ship.

”Did you think you could hide in the hold forever? Do you even know where we're going? Are you stupid?”

”No, sir. I hoped to stay hidden until we were well past Tenerife.” He doesn't want to stay in a Spanish port that is still not far enough from home. ”You are going to the British Colonies? I hope... I hope you allow me to stay.” Why did he even say that? Really, it's either staying on board or getting thrown out; there is no port after the Canary Islands until they reach the Caribbean. ”I can work. And I don't think I'm stupid, but...” He searches the word. ” _Desesperado?_ ”

Captain Amrull rolls his eyes and mutters to himself. The passengers who are on their way to the Colonies are whispering to each other, looking at Javi. Even some ladies among them, and probably children too. Yes, he knows he must look like a mess after what he's been through, his brown jacket and white linen shirt dirty. Even without looking down, he can assume the brown breeches that stop at his knees and the stockings are dirty as well, and his shoes feel damp. There's stubble on his face.

”Do you know what I usually do to stowaways? Throw them overboard... Or hang them from the mast.”

Javi has no idea if the Captain is serious or not. Punishments like that are usually reserved for murder or mutiny, but who knows what kind of a madman this particular Captain is.

”Captain.” It's the voice of the man who found him, Mr Lambert. Then Javi sees him walk forward.

Suddenly there's no air left on the deck after all. Mr Lambert is a sight. A coat, vest and breeches of deep purple velvet, a white frilled lace collar on his neck. White silk stockings around his calves. Soft, slightly wavy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail at the back of his head, tied with a black silk ribbon. The hair on his head as well as the facial hair is a of a lighter shade of brown than Javi thought earlier, not black. Golden rings on his fingers, with gems. Mr Lambert whispers into the Captain's ear, and Javi can see his profile. He looks... Beautiful and fashionable. Also rich and powerful. A little eccentric.

”Oh, fine,” Captain Amrull says, giving Lambert an amused glance before looking at Javi. ”I'll let you stay as a deckhand. That means scrubbing the deck and moving equipment and cargo and doing whatever else the officers tell you to. No pay. Stay out of everyone's way, especially passengers'. The Quartermaster will tell you what to do, and the officers will keep an eye on you. Be warned—I know you're on the run from something, so if they catch you doing any harm to anyone or anything, you're out.”

 _I'm not a criminal_ , Javi wants to say, but he's not sure if that's entirely correct. Sodomy is a crime, and even though he'd managed to escape before being dragged to court, that doesn't make him any less criminal in people's minds.

Javi's eyes meet Mr Lambert's briefly. The man smiles at him, and it goes to Javi's stomach as a warm feeling. This was what, the third time he's tried to help Javi? The fourth? First, not alerting anyone in the hold, although that could have been just the shock. Then preventing the Cook from possibly roughhousing Javi. Then being ready to help him when he slipped, touching a dirty stowaway like him. Finally, somehow influencing Captain Amrull's decision. What is going on? No wealthy landowner is that kind to common people. The title used was Mr, so he can't belong to the aristocracy. But judging by the appearance, he must belong to the extremely wealthy section of the gentry. Could be even richer than many aristocrats. Still, he's in a class way above Javi. Does the man want something from him? The obvious...?

But then, as Javi watches him and the Captain start heading towards the aft of the ship, a seaman trips next to Mr Lambert and falls flat on the deck. Javi can hear concern in Lambert's voice, and then he actually bends over slightly to give the seaman his hand and pull him up. The seaman clearly hesitates before gripping the hand timidly.

Eccentric, yes. Javi was right about that. Mr Lambert seems to be just kind to everyone.

A bulky man with a severely weather-beaten face steps in front of Javi. He's wearing his blue uniform pretty haphazardly, and looking at the other officers on deck, Javi now notices the same. The discipline is probably not terribly strict, this not being a Man O'War but a merchant ship. The ship is large, but the crew probably amounts to only 15 or so officers, 20 or 30 specialised crew members, and maybe 60 or 70 seamen. On top of that, all the passengers and servants. Still, it's nothing compared to a massive Man O'War, the combined number of seamen and marines typically well over 1,000.

If it was a time of war, it would be safer travelling in a convoy with other merchantmen and Men O'War. As it's not, they're sailing alone.

”Follow me,” the Quartermaster says. ”First, you're getting washed. Cleanliness is important here, you hear me? You keep yourself clean, and you keep the deck clean. Then I'm taking you to the barber-surgeon. Name?”

”Javi. Yes, sir,” he adds after the man lifts an eyebrow.

\---

Tears are sliding down Javi's cheeks as he lies on his side in a bunk bed. They reach his lips, but don't add to the taste of salt already in his mouth. It feels like the salt is everywhere. He had washed on the forecastle deck with seawater. He'd been given two white cotton shirts, to always wear one while the other is getting washed and dried, a job he'll have to do himself. Two pairs of brown-black 'slops' as well, the knee-length loose breeches of seamen, and two pairs of undergarments. For when it's cold, a short blue jacket, shoes and woollen stockings. His own clothes are now stored in a chest next to his bunk bed.

Javi's entire body aches. He's been on his knees scrubbing the decks with a block of sandstone and then fetching buckets of seawater to wash the decks down. All kinds of dirt ends up on the decks and seeps down, so each deck of the ship is scrubbed daily. That's what makes the lower decks that don't get dried in the sun constantly damp. To ease it, a portable stove gets transferred from place to place to dry the decks, but that job hasn't been trusted to him for fear that he'd set the ship on fire.

This is really going to be his life for the next weeks—anything from six to twelve weeks depending on the winds and weather. The route used to cross the Atlantic makes use of the Trade Winds that blow from east to west. British ships heading for the Colonies usually sail via Tenerife, stocking up on fresh water and produce, before the winds and the Equatorial Current take them over the Atlantic towards the Caribbean. From there, the Florida Current takes the them towards the Colonies. That is, unless a storm sinks them on the way.

Being clean, having had his face shaved and lying in a soft bunk bed feels amazing after the few miserable nights spent in the damp hold. But even this has its price, because the seamen had cursed Javi after learning he would get to sleep the whole night until morning. He had not been included in the four-hour watch rotation, the officers not trusting him with operating the ship at night. Reminding the crew that Javi doesn't receive any pay didn't seem to help the crew's resentment, so Javi is already unpopular for being a stowaway and getting the privilege of uninterrupted sleep.

He really thought he'd cried all that there was left to cry in the hold.

Damn him. Federico. Any warm feelings that Javi might have had at one point had evaporated when his brother had burst into his room to tell him that Federico had been seen kissing and touching a man, and while Javi hadn't been recognised, Federico had instantly ratted on him. He had told the authorities Javi's name and that Javi had seduced him, in exchange for a more lenient punishment for himself.

Javi's family had helped him to escape, his father giving all the money he had on hand at that moment, which was not much in that situation. The Spanish ship that he'd sneaked onto in Mallorca was bound for Tenerife. It was small, so he had been discovered quickly, and forced to give all his money to pay for the passage. Now he has no idea if he's ever going to see his family again.

\---

The next morning, after having finished a breakfast of biscuit, or hard bread soaked in water to make it edible; salted beef; peas and cabbage, he's on his way to start scrubbing the decks. A tall, burly seaman, whose name Javi thinks is Jack, corners him in a narrow passageway. A few men pass without looking at them, and Jack comes so close Javi is forced to press against the bulkhead, the wall on a ship.

”Where you going, Spaniard?”

”To scrub,” he says in a level voice. The man smells of tobacco and sweat.

”Good. It's a pretty sight. You on your knees,” Jack says quietly and grins, showing yellowed teeth.

Cold dread settles into Javi's stomach. He thought Jack was just showing him his place, and he's been afraid the few shoves he'd experienced the day before could turn more violent, but now there's the threat of something else.

”Something pretty to look at on a ship. We get smacked on the head if we stare at the passenger ladies, you know. And that's only the first warning. You, though... No one gives a shit what happens to you.”

To his horror Javi feels a rough hand grab his buttock and squeeze it through the fabric of the slops.

”Get your hands off—” he manages before there's a hand on his throat, squeezing so that panic sets in. It doesn't last for long, though, because Jack is forced to release his grip when a group of men carrying something heavy tries to pass them. Javi uses the chance to slip away and climbs up to the weather deck.

His hands are shaking when he picks up the sandstone. Now he's conscious of every seaman on the deck, all the time feeling as if there's someone behind him staring and planning to do something to him.

The day is hot, and sweat is trickling down Javi's temples as he works. There's hardly any wind, the ship inching along like a snail. Javi is barefoot like most seamen, and he's rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He's taking a break leaning against the railing and drinking beer, when he spots Mr Lambert come to the bow of the ship to look at the sea.

Today his velvet suit is navy blue, and it's a miracle if he's not feeling hot in it. He's holding a tricorn hat with a large feather in it, about to put it on, when either there's a sudden gust of wind, or he simply fumbles with the hat, causing it to drop over the railing.

Javi really can't explain what comes over him. Perhaps it's feeling grateful from Lambert's kindness and wanting to pay it back somehow. Before he knows it, he's pulled his shirt over his head and climbed on the railing. Without pausing to think, especially of the possibility of sharks, he dives into the clear blue sea.

It's exhilarating, something he loves to do back home, and he laughs as he comes up to the surface. The hat isn't far away, so he swims to it and then back to the ship. He should have maybe considered that there isn't anything to hold onto in the smooth hull of the ship, but a rope ladder is dropped for him. Javi puts the hat on his head when he climbs, and on the top Mr Lambert offers a hand to pull him onto the deck.

”Are you insane?” Lambert asks, but he's grinning.

”Here's your hat, sir.” Javi takes it off. ”I'm sorry it's wet,” he says shyly, trying not to smile back quite so broadly.

Lambert's eyes are narrow squints when he laughs, his smile wide and white. Javi is standing there dripping water, wet curls on his forehead.

”Did you see that, Sutan?” Lambert says turning to look behind him. Captain Amrull is there.

”I did. The Spanish boy has earned extra grog for the crew for making Mr Lambert happy,” the Captain says loudly. There are cheers, and maybe this is Javi's chance to make the crew warm up to him. To escape abuse. ”Make no mistake—if you do that in full speed, we are not stopping to throw any ropes for you.”

”Yes, sir.”

”Come sit with me,” Lambert says to Javi's shock. ”You deserve a break.”

”I was already taking a break, sir.”

”Well, you deserve another one.”

The Captain is already strolling away, and the officers nearby seem to be avoiding looking at them.

Javi shouldn't lazy around, but obviously Lambert can do as he pleases, and if he wants to talk to Javi, then that's what he'll get and Javi can't be blamed.

”What's your name?” Lambert asks, sitting down on top of a large chest in the shade and motioning for Javi to sit next to him, which he does after pulling his shirt back on, even though it feels awkward.

”Javi.”

” _Javi._ I don't know if I should apologise for exposing you down in the hold, but I'm glad you're out in the fresh air now.”

”You don't need to apologise, sir. I knew that someone would find me. I'm glad to be here too.”

A man comes over carrying a tray with a glass of some liquor for Lambert and a tin cup of grog for Javi.

”Thank you, Terrance.”

”Keep away from the sun,” the servant says and leaves, Javi's eyes almost bulging out of his head at the lack of 'sir' at the end and the commanding tone in general.

Mr Lambert rolls his eyes. ”Honestly, he fusses so much. He says he's never seen a white man as delicate as I am. The freckles, you know.”

They're beautiful. They don't stand out immediately, but the more Javi looks, the more he sees them, all over Lambert's face. On the lips too. Realising he's staring, he busies himself with the grog. But it's impossible not to look again. The contrasts of the deep blue velvet fabric, the white lace and the warm tone of the skin are very pleasing. Lambert takes a sip from his glass, keeping his half-lidded eyes on Javi, and fuck, something jut happened in Javi's belly from seeing a glimpse of the man's tongue.

Lambert puts the glass down. ”May I?” He's holding out his hand palm up, and it takes forever for Javi to realise Lambert wants his hand.

He hesitates, but lays his own hand on top, palm up. His own hand is a bit smaller but not a lot. Lambert's thumb circles the newly formed blisters, presses against the soft flesh of his palm. It feels divine.

”Soft,” Lambert says, but it's not accusatory. Like in wonder. ”This is not the hand of a labourer.”

”No. But I'll get used to it.”

Lambert looks at him, still massaging Javi's hand, and Javi knows he's expected to continue.

”I kept my father's accounts. He has a small trading business in Mallorca.”

”You were a bookkeeper.”

”Yes.”

”And now you're a deckhand.”

”Yes.”

Lambert has to be curious about how Javi's fortunes can have turned like this, but he doesn't ask. Instead, he looks at Javi's hand and then finally releases it.

”Do you know a lot about ships, then?”

”Some. My father has two small ships, and I'm used to sailing on them, but I haven't...” he waves his hand, indicating at the seamen working in the distance. Several climbing down a shroud, which is the net-like structure connecting the masts to the railing on both sides of the ship, supporting the masts. Someone tarring hemp ropes, another one carrying timber to replace some damaged part of the ship. ”I have looked, but I haven't done much myself.”

”Well, I know hardly a thing myself about how a ship operates,” Lambert says smiling. ”So you can expect me to do stupid things like not keep hold of my hat.”

It makes him giggle.

”Actually, I do travel a lot,” Lambert says. ”So I'm used to all the discomforts on a ship, and I don't get sick easily. I've done the crossing a few times before.” Then Lambert lowers his voice and leans closer to Javi. ”You should see Baron Pollock, though. He was boasting about his strong stomach when we boarded, but the slightest lurch of the ship, and he's heaving up his insides. His poor servant is green in the face having to deal with it all.”

”I'm sorry to hear that,” Javi says but can't keep a straight face. ”Is he with all the other passengers?”

”Confined to his own cabin most of the time, thankfully, but dinners in the large cabin are always interesting when he joins us,” Lambert says in a cheerful voice, and Javi can imagine the nervousness of anyone dining next to the Baron.

”May I ask, what were you doing down in the hold, sir?” Maybe he's overstepped, but Lambert lets out a short giggle.

”I was banished. Everyone got sick of my singing in the large cabin. It's where the passengers spend their time, because most people have sleeping cabins so tiny that they go crazy in there.”

”But your singing is so beautiful!” It truly is, and Javi can't imagine how anyone would get sick of it. Lambert has to be exaggerating.

”Aww, thank you. It may have been a bit of a jest; they told me to go give a concert for the rats, and I was bored enough to do it. Terrance got mad at me for going exploring in the dark on my own.”

”Well, I'm glad it was you who found me,” Javi says, a little dumbfounded by this gentleman. ”I think you asked the Captain to spare me? Thank you. It was very kind of you, sir.”

”Oh, don't bother with the sir,” Lambert says with a smile. ”Ranks and titles aren't so important here. The ocean is its own world. We're all stuck on this little floating piece of wood. We'll either make it together or sink together. And Sutan is an old friend of mine. He was just teasing you, he wouldn't kill someone who's only in trouble and needs help.”

Javi can't help it. It's so embarrassing, but tears well up suddenly. He looks away at the sea, swallowing and trying to get it under control.

”Are you alright?”

”Yes, thank you.” Thankfully Mr Lambert lets him have his dignity and only nudges the tin cup, reminding him to drink.

\---

Javi manages to avoid Jack for the rest of the day, but unfortunately it turns out the extra ration of grog hasn't made him any more popular, and there are others who give him long stares and try to grab him in passing. One seaman comes up behind him and makes a thrusting motion, laughing dirtily with his friends.

Luckily, Javi also manages to befriend one half-Spanish seaman a little, so he has someone to talk to.

”Are they harassing you?” Esteban asks in Spanish, when Javi nearly drops his plate feeling a hand brush against his thigh, as he's making his way towards his table.

”Yeah.”

Esteban sighs and takes his woollen cap off for a moment to scratch his head.

”You've made yourself a target. Now, hold on—” Esteban raises his hand when Javi tries to protest. ”I'm not saying it's completely your fault. You're just too young and pretty for your own good. Smart too. I can see it in your eyes. It only makes them angrier. Of course, ships always have plenty of cabin boys to wait on the Captain and the passengers and whatnot, but they're part of the crew and mostly protected by the officers. You're an outsider. You should probably have beaten someone up and shown how tough you are from the get-go. Somehow I can't picture that, though, and it's too late now.”

Javi can't picture it either.

”Try to stay out of trouble,” Esteban says. ”I feel for you, but I can't get involved.” It's disappointing, but he understands. Esteban has to safeguard his own place in the community. As if to demonstrate this, Jack stops by their table.

”Making friends, Stevie?” Jack asks, but he's staring at Javi.

”Just chatting,” Esteban says and looks down at his food.

That night, what Javi has been fearing happens, but way sooner than he'd thought. He wakes up to a dark figure leaning over him. The only lantern is far, but Javi recognises Jack by his low chuckle.

”Hi, sweetie,” Jack whispers, reeking of spirits, and then drops down on top of him. A hand covers Javi's mouth. It doesn't stop him from making some noise, but the seaman in the upper bunk doesn't react, and ones in the bunks that aren't empty either continue to sleep or roll over. He kicks and bites, doing everything to struggle free, but Jack is a heavy man. Worse, it's so hot at night that everyone sleeps without a blanket only in their shirt, so Jack is already pushing Javi's shirt up and trying to turn Javi around on his stomach.

It's the most terrifying thing he's experienced, the panic making him feel almost detached from his body. It's only because Jack doesn't manage to turn him over or separate his legs right away that Javi gets to try long enough until his knee seems to hit Jack's groin, causing a pained grunt and a moment of distraction. He manages to wriggle so that his upper body is hanging over the edge of the bunk, and then he pulls his legs out, dropping on the deck. Before Jack even manages to struggle up, Javi is out of there, scrambling up two sets of ladders until he's on the weather deck.

He spends the rest of the night there, curled up only in his shirt with his back against a mast. No one pays him any mind.

He skips breakfast. Esteban seeks him out later, when he's scrubbing the orlop deck. The sight of him startles Javi at first, because all the time he's expecting Jack or someone else to come abuse him.

”Did something happen?” Esteban asks crouching down next to him.

”Jack tried to force himself on me during the night.”

”Shit.” Esteban stays quite for a while. ”I don't think telling an Officer would help.”

”It doesn't. I told the Quartermaster, and he just spat on the deck and asked me if he should go ask Jack if it's true. The message was pretty clear.”

”Oh, you poor thing. I'm not going to lie, I think sooner or later Jack or someone else gets what they want. I think you have only one option left.” Esteban gets quiet again, and Javi waits patiently. ”You should offer yourself to someone of high rank. Ask if they'd take you as their bed warmer.”

”But it's summer? I don't think anyone wants their bed warmed.”

”No, stupid. You can't really be that dense.”

It dawns on him. ”Oh.”

”No one would mess with you, if they knew you belonged to someone important and you slept in their cabin. At least you'd get to choose the person who lifts a leg over you. There's a handful of gentlemen on board who might take you up on it. And there's the Captain too. Everyone knows he likes to play backgammon.”

Javi didn't know that, but he's not sure if the Captain likes him very much. And is the alternative to being raped really to prostitute himself?

There's only one man, who he thinks is kind enough to consider another suggestion. He doesn't explain his plan to Esteban, though. It's better if Esteban thinks Javi is going to ask exactly what was suggested.

\---

There's no time to delay, so the next break he has, Javi heads towards the passengers' section. He has no business loitering around there, though, so as soon as he spots a servant, he asks where Mr Lambert's cabin is. It's at the stern next to the Captain's, so he has to go up to the weather deck to access it. When he arrives, he spots Terrance coming out.

”Excuse me,” Javi says, unsure how to address the man, who in his past life would have been lower in stature than him, but now he doesn't really know, and Terrance somehow exudes confidence. ”Could I possibly talk to Mr Lambert?”

”Sure thing, honey. Just go in.”

”But—you mean—”

”I know he'll be happy to see you. He's decent, don't worry,” Terrance says with a grin and leaves.

So Javi opens the door and steps in. If the deck under his feet wasn't still swaying in a familiar rhythm, he would think he's entered a room in a lavish house. It's not large, but larger than most cabins. It must have been separated from what on another ship would all be the Captain's quarters. It's definitely the cabin for someone with either an important title or money. All the furniture looks new, made in the flamboyant rococo style. There's a writing table with ornamental gold decoration and a chest of drawers. A mirror on a small table with a padded stool in front of it. A wash basin. A bed with a canopy over it, with blue embroidered curtains that are now tied to the bedposts. Rugs on the floor. In the middle of the room is an armchair, and Mr Lambert is sprawled on it in his shirtsleeves; moss green velvet breeches and vest and a shirt, but no coat.

”Javi!” Mr Lambert springs up from the chair. ”I've m—I haven't seen you anywhere. How are you? Did the blisters heal?”

With a hand against Javi's back, Lambert directs him to sit on a chair, and Javi takes a seat with his cheeks already burning.

”Did Terrance leave?” Lambert asks.

”He did.”

”Oh, well.” Then the man opens a small cupboard on the bulkhead and pulls out two glasses and a bottle. A glass of some liquor is placed on a table in front of Javi, as well as a bowl of grapes. ”What a lousy servant he is, but he's loyal and loves me. He's a free man, mind you. I'm an abolitionist.”

Something huge swells inside Javi's chest. Finding out that someone he already admires is even more admirable robs him of speech for a while, and he can only smile, face probably beaming. Lambert looks at him expectantly, smiling too and brushing a lock of long wavy hair behind his ear.

Javi takes a sip of the liquor for courage.

”You've been very kind to me, so that's why you're the only person I could come to with a request like this,” he says, picking imaginary lint from the fabric of his dark slops.

”Tell me.” Now Lambert's voice is too gentle.

”Would you consider pretending that I'm your bed warmer and letting me sleep here?”


	2. Chapter 2

Mr Lambert's mouth drops open. Javi should explain.

”I've been... I've been harassed by the crew from the start, and last night someone tried to force himself on me.”

”Wh—” Lambert stands up. ”Are you hurt?”

There are bruises, but nothing too bad. ”No, I'm fine. I got away.”

”Who?” It's obvious Lambert is furious, his eyes blazing and voice a deep rumble. He is actually more than a little intimidating to look at. ”I'll kill him.”

Javi isn't entirely sure if the man is serious or saying it just to let out his anger. It feels good that someone is angry on his behalf, expressing what he hasn't had a chance to feel, too busy fearing for his safety. It's somehow really comforting.

”Sit down,” he says, and before he has time to get shocked by what he just said, Lambert drops down onto the chair again.

”We should tell Captain Amrull. He can be tough, you have to earn your place on his ship. Pothos is like a baby to him, but he wouldn't tolerate something like this if he knew.”

”I'm fine. I think it would just cause more trouble for me if anyone was punished. I was told... I was told that no one would touch me, if I was claimed by someone important.” It makes his cheeks hot again.

”Of course I'll pretend that. Yes, you can sleep here. You'll be safe here.” Lambert tries to get up but sits down again, then makes a motion as if reaching to touch Javi, but pulls his hand back. Then he looks around searching for something, and stares at a blanket on the back of his own chair for a while before seeming to think better of it.

Yes, it's too warm for a blanket. It's hilarious, the poor man in a state, clearly wanting to offer physical comfort somehow, but not knowing how to.

Trying not to laugh, Javi offers his hand, and Lambert squeezes Javi's slender fingers between both of his palms.

”It doesn't disgust you?” Javi asks in a quiet voice. The crew will certainly hear about it, and if servants gossip, then the passengers as well, although they probably won't say anything to Lambert. Things like that aren't discussed in polite society.

”No! Not at all. The opposite. It would be very flattering to me, if people thought someone like you graced my bedroom.” Javi's hand is released. ”You're welcome here anytime. And if anyone bothers you again, you'll tell me right away.”

”Thank you so much. I don't know how to—”

”Shh. Not a word. And you should still let me know who it was before we reach the next port, so I can advise the Captain to leave the man there.”

They agree that it's best if Terrance comes to get Javi that night.

\---

The seamen are getting ready to go to bed and Javi is pretending he's doing the same. It's so late that he's almost worried no one is going to come for him and he'll have to spend another night in the bunk. Finally he sees Terrance carrying a lantern.

”Javi! Mr Lambert wants you. Take your things.”

After a second of silence there's wolf-whistling and jeering.

He takes his bundle of clothes and follows Terrance.

”I'm sorry for what happened to you,” Terrance says as they walk. ”Mr Lambert is a good man, so you have nothing to fear from him.”

”I know.”

”Be honest about this—do you have lice?”

”What?”

Terrance pretends to hold something tiny between his fingertips and then scratches his head and grimaces.

”Oh. No, I don't.”

”Any disease? Fever, cough? Any itches in your groin?

”No!” A surprised laugh leaves him, but he knows it's no laughing matter. ”I'm sorry, I know you're looking out for him. I appreciate it.”

In Mr Lambert's cabin Javi encounters a confused face.

”There's no hammock?”

It must be the same word as in Spanish, _hamaca_. ”No? Those are only on warships with hundreds of people. Merchant ships have bunk beds.”

”I see.” Lambert scratches his beard. ”Somehow I pictured us setting up a hammock between my bedpost and the wall.”

”The deck is perfect.”

Mr Lambert continues to prattle on, but Javi ignores him and puts two rugs on top of each other, and Terrance returns from a side room carrying clean bedding.

”Good night, sirs,” Terrance says in a sing-song voice and closes the door behind him.

Then it's just the two of them in candlelight, the candles securely inside lanterns as is required on a ship. With his back to Mr Lambert, Javi opens the string of his slops, and then lets them and the undergarment drop down to his ankles. The white shirt is so long that it reaches mid-thigh.

”Right.” Lambert walks to the corner of the room that has the chest with drawers and the wash-basin. There's also a portable folded screen, which Lambert unfolds and sets up to give him privacy. Or perhaps out of consideration for Javi?

He lies down on the makeshift bed on his stomach. Honestly, it's not very soft at all. But lying there with his chin propped up on his crossed arms, the candles giving the cabin a soft glow, all silent except for the creak of the ship, and seeing glimpses of Mr Lambert undressing, which he doesn't make a mention of, makes him feel very safe.

”Thank you for agreeing to this, Mr Lambert.”

”Oh, for—” Lambert comes out from behind the screen in a knee-length white nightshirt. It has a lace collar with a deep neck. His hair is untied. Javi looks at the long naked legs and the swathe of naked chest. ”We're sleeping in the same room. My name is Adam. And you're welcome.”

Adam. Of course. It almost feels as if Javi knew, and he'd only forgotten.

Calling a gentleman by his first name is exceptional, something that not even spouses always do. It's all the more rare for someone of lower stature being given that honour. _Adam_ seems to be an unusual man in his attitude to social classes and treatment of people. And this little cabin feels like a magical place, where rules of normal life don't apply.

Adam brings Javi back from his musings to a very mundane level.

”There's a privy adjacent to the cabin if you need it. It's the door on the left. The door on the right leads to Terrance's cabin.” Javi stifles a giggle into his pillow. The privileges he gets: gentlemen's privies are normally strictly forbidden for common seamen, men of low rank considered too unclean to use them. His giggling intensifies, probably because of his tiredness and the tension in him dissipating. 

”What?” Adam asks giggling. ”I'm telling you the difference for your own good. Terrance will throw you overboard if you open his door and start peeing on him in the middle of the night.”

Now it's open-mouthed laughter, lying on his side and curling into a ball. Once his laughter subsides, he opens his eyes to look up at Adam, who is looking very... Happy.

Then Adam blows the candles out, and there's only moonlight coming from the windows, one of which is ajar to let a cool breeze in.

Adam gets into bed next to Javi's sleeping place.

”Do you mind if I...?”

Javi looks up to barely see Adam motioning taking off his shirt.

”No, of course not.”

”I usually sleep without.” It sounds like Adam takes the shirt off and lies down.

”This is your cabin. Just pretend that I'm not here. Although, if you get up during the night, you'll trip over me.”

”No, you're good right there.”

Not having slept much the night before, Javi is exhausted and falls asleep quickly. Some time during the night he wakes up from a nightmare. A heavy weight on top of him and a choking feeling. Opening his eyes, the feelings disappear, and the only thing he sees is Adam's hand near his face. Adam's arm is hanging off the side of the bed, knuckles grazing the floor. There's a soft snuffling sound.

Javi inches closer and kisses the hand in gratitude, just a ghost of his lips. No rings on the fingers now. Adam will soon wake up to pins and needles, though, so Javi gets up and gently lifts the arm back on the bed. Adam doesn't stir.

The second time he wakes, it's light in the cabin. He sits up so fast his head swims.

”I overslept.”

Adam is still in bed but awake, with his shirt back on. ”It's fine. I'm sure all the crew knows by now. They imagine I wanted to keep you in bed for a morning round. No one is going to complain to you about it. They might make fun of you, but they won't touch you.”

Oh, no. No, no, no. Adam's words conjure up images that make a stab of lust hit deep, and he grips the bedding in his hands.

”I'd better go.”

”Terrance will get you some breakfast first. You must have missed yours. I have to go attend the breakfast with other passengers.”

The breakfast that Terrance gets him is vastly better than the seamen's rations. There's even fruit, and Adam tells him to eat it while it lasts, telling him of a new theory circling around that fruit prevent scurvy.

Javi leaves the cabin with a smile on his face and heads up to the forecastle deck to wash himself up. Once he starts working, it doesn't take long into scrubbing the decks before Jack is strolling by.

”There's the Spaniard. Stuffed full of cow's cream in one end and a rich man's cream in the other end.” Javi continues scrubbing. Jack laughs heartily and walks away.

It's so strange that something that the Church condemns as sin is tolerated in other spaces. Javi's case would have gone to trial and he could have been executed. Even if not, his own community save for his family wouldn't have forgiven him, probably shunning him from their company. However, it's a bit different for men of money and influence, the society turning a blind eye and all sorts of eccentricities allowed. And at the other end of the social scale, in isolated all-male communities such as a ship on a long voyage, it happens also. But as an act of violence, not love.

And that's what he wants: acts of love shared with someone he cares about.

Later, Adam takes a walk on the weather deck. It feels weird to see him now compared to before. They are on first name terms now, and spent the night sleeping in close proximity.

Javi grins to himself when Adam takes a seat on a chest next to where he is scrubbing the deck. He takes a look, but Adam's eyes are closed and face tilted towards the sun. The velvet fabric of the purple suit is shining in the sun. Especially on the very tightly fitted breeches. Adam's legs are stretched out and ankles crossed, his thighs pressed against the chest.

It's safer to just continue working. Adam moves his feet when Javi's sandstone comes closer, so he must have opened his eyes. Suddenly Javi is very aware of his own body, but not in an uncomfortable way like earlier, when he was paranoid that seamen were staring. In a pleasurable way, pleased to be looked at by Adam, although he fears the sight is not that aesthetic. His bare legs and forearms have browned in the sun. Salt water has made his curls feel dry. His lips feel a bit dry too when he licks them, and Javi reminds himself to drink more beer and water, even if the water tastes so stale. All in all, he must look like a skinny runt.

”I'll see you later,” Adam says, and Javi gives him a smile.

In the afternoon the Quartermaster informs him that tasks are being switched by the order of the Captain, and Javi will now be given a variety of tasks. Instead of scrubbing, he will be taking care of the chickens and geese on board, in cages around the main mast. He will also be running errands for the Cook. Moving sacks and barrels is still heavy work, but it's a lot better than what he was doing before. Javi has a feeling Adam has something to do with this development.

The harassment has stopped now, and Javi is mostly being ignored by the others, with the exception of Esteban who says hello when he can.

When Javi arrives to the cabin in the evening, there's something waiting for him. A small cup of something brown with bits of dried fruit in it.

”It's pudding from the dinner. I didn't feel like having it,” Adam says.

Javi has never had it, but he recognises the English treat. It tastes amazing, rich with sweet spices, and he tries to eat it slowly. It's like his senses are assaulted from all sides that night, later Adam passing him from so close that it's even more obvious how good Adam smells. It feels like the time Javi has spent breathing in salt and sweat and the ever-present smell of tar from tarred ropes, eating tasteless food, has made him forget that there are still sweet, enticing and delicious things in the world. He wishes there had been more pudding, so he could have gorged on it. He wants to mash his nose against some part of Adam and breathe him in.

Adam smells so good, yet washing himself with sea water makes Javi smell only like the sea.

”Alright?” It's such a soft question, like a caress.

He stares at the edge of the intricate lace collar brushing against strands of Adam's beard. Gentlemen's fashion is so fascinating, a combination of masculine and feminine things, and Adam seems to accentuate the femininity. Among Javi's peers, a gentleman dressing and behaving as Adam does would have been called fancy and pretty, and not in a nice way. But Adam _is_ pretty. Like a flower.

”Yes,” he whispers and takes a step back. ”Thank you for the pudding. We don't really have anything like it in Mallorca.”

”What do you have?” Adam asks, turning to walk towards the dressing screen and already opening the buttons of his vest.

”Uh, there's flan and Creme Catalana, but they're not really like the English pudding,” Javi says taking off his slops. ”There are so many other things, though. Turrón, churros, torrijas, miguelitos...” He gets lost in remembering all the desserts and feeling homesick. He's still describing them when the light is gone and they're both in their beds.

”I've never gone to Spain on my travels,” Adam says. ”I think I've missed out on a lot. And not just the food.”

But all Javi has talked about is the food. Is Adam really...?

”Where did you go?”

”All over the place, really.” There's the sound of Adam moving into a more comfortable position on the bed. ”I first came to Europe in my early twenties. It was supposed to be a nine-month tour, but it turned into over two years. I fell in love. With Europe, among other things. Then I came back home. But this time it's been nearly four years. Britain, France, Germany, Italy.”

”And where is home?” Surely Adam will tell him to stop if he doesn't want to answer Javi's questions.

”In the Province of New Jersey. My mother inherited an estate there.” Adam describes it, making it sound like a really lovely place. ”I'd be happy to show it to you, if you want.”

Javi has no idea what to say to that. ”I'm glad I finally get to see the world. Even if this is not _quite_ the way I imagined doing it.”

Adam laughs. ”No, I don't think I'd recommend anyone becoming a stowaway if they want to see the world. What you're doing now is much better.”

”Pretending to be a bed warmer for a rich man?”

”Well. I'm not sure how many men would be enthusiastic about the pretending part, but yes, getting yourself a rich patron who wants to show you the world.”

They talk and giggle well into the night.

\---

The wind picks up and they're making better speed now. The next time Javi goes to Adam's cabin it's even earlier in the evening.

There's a wooden bathtub in the middle of the cabin. Adam is sitting in it with his back to the door. His hair is wet.

”I—”

Adam looks over his shoulder. ”Sorry, I'm just finishing. Stay, but shut the door maybe?”

Flushed, Javi pulls the door fully shut and sits down on a chair by the door. Terrance brings over a towel and holds it behind Adam's back, so that Adam can stand up in the tub. That is, Javi assumes the point is to cover Adam's body and give him privacy. But Terrance has a weird smirk on his face while he holds the towel, and—for a moment it doesn't cover Adam's ass.

Terrance is an evil, evil man. What is Javi supposed to do with the vision of two perfect, glistening globes imprinted on his eyelids? Think about it all day long from now on?

The towel is wrapped around Adam's body, and Adam starts drying his hair with another, while stepping out of the tub onto a third one.

”Thank you, Terrance.”

”You're welcome. Javi, could you help me empty the tub?” Terrance asks.

”Wait—”

Both men turn to look at him.

”Could I—could I use the water? To bathe?”

Adam's mouth parts, but it's Terrance who speaks.

”You want to reuse the same bathwater?”

When Terrance puts it like that, it sounds weird, but it's the same as if bathing with someone. And they're on a ship, where fresh water shouldn't be wasted.

”I only get to wash myself with sea water,” he says feeling really awkward now. But Adam looks so affronted that he's probably ready to push Javi into the tub clothes and all.

”Get in, and Terrance please get some more soap.”

Adam disappears behind the screen to dress and Terrance leaves the room for a moment, so Javi quickly throws his clothes off and gets into the tub. The water is still warm and there are rose petals floating in it. Javi washes his hair with the soap, almost moaning from pleasure.

”Should I wash your back?” Terrance asks.

There's a clang like something dropping behind the dressing screen.

”Um. Please, do?”

Terrance scrubs his back efficiently with a washcloth, and it feels good. Adam comes out wrapped in a blue silk damask banyan, a man's nightgown. He looks like some Persian prince. He's puttering around the cabin, humming and glancing at Javi, but not staring. Although, is there even a reason why he would?

Just like with Adam, Terrance holds a towel for Javi, except Javi gives him a meaningful look at first. Probably there are no 'accidental' glimpses of naked buttocks. Afterwards he helps Terrance carry the tub out of the door and heave the water overboard.

”I feel so good now,” Javi says to Adam when they're alone again.

”Come here.”

Javi follows Adam to the mirror and table behind the screen.

”You're welcome to all of my things, if they can be of any use to you. There's ointment in that jar that could be good if you still have any blisters. There's mouth wash in that... What is it?”

”I just. I haven't seen myself for a while.”

The mirror shows a young man with glowing pink cheeks, green eyes, a full pink lower lip, and damp curls. The neck of his white shirt is untied, showing some black hairs at the center of his chest. Somehow it's shocking to Javi how normal and... Fine he looks. It has felt like all the toil and heartache he's been through must surely be reflected on his face. That's not a withered face, though. But it's nowhere near as beautiful as the face next to his.

Adam is standing right behind him in his blue banyan, slightly taller. When Adam's hair is open and wet, it's straight and reaches his shoulders. His eyes look dark.

”Then you should take a good look. I get to look at you every day. It's a lovely sight,” Adam says in a low voice, not looking a the mirror anymore, but at Javi's profile.

It makes a weird vibration go through him, a visible tremble.

”Use whatever you like,” Adam says and pulls away.

After Javi is done, they resume their chatting from the night before. It's probably quite late, when Adam gets quiet after Javi has banged his elbow against the deck from laughing too hard.

”I really can't stand having you on the floor like that,” Adam says. ”I'll ask this just once, because it might make you uncomfortable, but would you please come to bed? I _promise_ I won't touch you. It's a tight fit, but surely wide enough for two people to sleep without touching each other.”

So many conflicting thoughts go through Javi's head. He can't deny that he wants to, very much, but he's self-aware enough to know it will be hard for him. He's attracted to Adam. And it would be more gentlemanly of him to let Adam have the whole bed for himself. But he also can't bear to offend Adam, or let Adam continue worrying about him. Finally he just follows his instinct and gets up.

”Which side do you want?” he asks. Adam is lying closer to the edge of the bed.

”I don't always sleep well, so sometimes I get up during the night. I can take the edge.”

The bed is situated against the bulkhead, but Javi can access it from the foot of the bed, so he doesn't have to scramble over Adam. The bed makes a creaking sound when he crawls on his knees to slide in between Adam and the bulkhead.

His heart is racing like mad, and the fact that Adam is shirtless... _Naked_ , with a white quilt over his lower body, makes Javi's heart make a weird flip-flop.

Lying there on his back, he wonders if his heart is giving up on him. But despite the accelerated state of his heart, this right here feels even safer than his previous sleeping spot. Like a cocoon between Adam and the bulkhead, filled with a good scent. Even if it's not very practical, he'd like to put some furniture at the foot of the bed, so that no one can come and pull him away by the ankles. He hides his legs under the quilt.

”What are you thinking?” Adam asks. Adam was right; even though the bed isn't as wide as a double-bed, it's just wide enough for them to lie there without touching.

”It's safe,” he whispers.

”Are you still scared?”

”Sometimes.”

”Nothing is going to happen to you on my watch.” The way Adam says it, Javi believes him.

”Would I—would I still be here, if the man had succeeded in what he tried to do?” Or would Adam think him spoiled, repulsive?

” _Javi_.” Adam turns on his side. ”Yes, you would. Right here.”

He makes a soft answering sound, but his eyes are heavy and he can't keep them open anymore.

He dreams about Adam asking whether Javi would still be there, if instead of only Adam, he'd had a number of helpful rich men to choose from when seeking safety, men who also wouldn't ask anything from Javi in return. It's a silly question, so he says yes, of course, you dumb man.

\---

In the morning, he wakes up first. Adam is sleeping on his back, head turned away from Javi.

The skin on Adam's shoulder is thoroughly freckled. Arm too. Javi supports himself on his elbow and looks. Adam's chest is rising and falling slowly. The planes of his chest are covered with light hairs. Looking at Adam's body is sending liquid pulses down into his groin, but he can't make himself stop. Two full chest muscles and the rosy peaks on them. A cute belly. The edge of the quilt there. Adam looks so... Big and strong and soft at the same time. Javi should stop. He really should, but he manages only when he realises he's slowly humping the bedding between his legs.

Quietly, without disturbing Adam, he hops off the bed. The dark slops are so loose they thankfully hide his hard-on. It's better to skip breakfast than stay waiting for Terrance, so he takes two apples from the table and puts them in his pockets to eat in secrecy when he has a chance. There are birds to be fed and his clothes to be washed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The tag says "smut"!)

Javi has just finished hauling a water barrel from the hold to the weather deck with the help of other seamen, when he spots Adam walking closer.

Esteban lingers before leaving. ”How are you? Is he treating you alright?”

”I'm good,” Javi says smiling. ”He's sweet.”

Esteban's eyebrows lift up, but he leaves before Adam reaches them. Javi starts opening the barrel and giving water for the birds.

”You left before I woke up. Did I do something in sleep?” Adam's face is really serious, and it dawns on Javi that Adam must have been horrified waking up and imagining he'd made Javi uncomfortable or scared.

”No! You didn't. I'm sorry, I just—I couldn't sleep anymore, so I decided to come here.”

Adam takes a seat. ”Alright. I'm glad.”

Javi crouches down next to the chicken coop. ”I've named them.”

”You have?” Adam asks with a giggle.

”Yes. That fat one is Manuela. There's Lupita, and Isolda, and Faustina. Emeralda and Pepita. Uh... Silvia? Yes. And Gabriela and Geraldina. I don't remember what I decided for that small one.” He pouts his lips.

”So cute.”

”Isn't she?” he says and looks at Adam, but Adam is looking at him.

”How about Rosa?” Adam says after a while.

”Perfect.”

”What about the geese?”

”I haven't named them. It's too sad, because I know they're ending up on the dinner table one by one.”

”Oh. I understand. I don't think I can eat any geese now. I prefer fish days anyway and often skip the meat.”

They get into a playful debate, Javi trying to explain he didn't mean it that way and he needs Adam to stay strong and healthy. Adam says Javi is starting to sound like Terrance, and he can afford to lose a few pounds anyway, which almost drives Javi insane until they call it a truce, laughing.

”Would you sing something before I go take the eggs for the cook?”

”Sing something?” Adam sounds surprised. Javi hasn't asked that before. So far he's just enjoyed hearing Adam burst into bits of random songs in the evenings. ”What would you like me to sing?”

”Anything. But I guess something the seamen would like,” he says glancing around the deck.

Adam is quiet for a while, and then he starts singing. It's a little hard for Javi to follow the lyrics, but it's a ballad about a woman whose lover goes away to sea, and in the meanwhile her parents force her to marry another man. The reunion is tragic, the woman choosing her husband instead of her true love.

All around them seamen are stopping to listen, leaning against the railing or hanging from the rigging like monkeys.

Adam's voice is so beautiful, but the song can go hang. If you find your true love, you need to hold onto them, no matter what the society says is your duty.

It's followed by another, a faster paced folk tune. It takes a while before Javi catches on to the lyrics, and when he does, his mouth drops. It's no wonder the seamen are laughing and cheering, because the song is very bawdy. Honestly, most of it goes over his head, all the strange terms he assumes are slang for body parts and acts. It's a little shocking that someone of Adam's stature is singing a vulgar song for seamen.

”Where did you learn a song like that?” he asks when it's finished.

”In London,” Adams says and winks at him. ”I learnt many things in London. The group of people I was spending time with was a lot of fun. You would like them. They call themselves the Macaroni—young men who have done the Grand European Tour and have fallen in love with all things Italian and French. _Fabulous_ young men. They're even crazier about fashion than I am.”

They must have been very interesting and amusing young men, very pretty and fashionable.

”Do they wear velvet suits like yours?”

”This?” Adam asks in a high voice, looking down at his suit. ”This is conventional, for travelling. I bought way too many things in London, my chests are filled with them. Would you like to see them some time?”

Javi is about to answer, when the figure of Captain Amrull appears behind Adam. He must have been observing all the singing going on from the steering platform at the aft of the ship, on top of the cabins belonging to the Captain and Adam.

”Are you trying to seduce all my crew?”

”No. Just the most charming member of your crew,” Adam says with a subtle smile.

He. Wh—

”Right. Don't drop those eggs, now,” the Captain says looking at Javi, and that's his cue to stop staring and leave.

\---

Their nightly conversations are easily Javi's favourite part of the day. Now conducted while playing cards, sometimes with Terrance; Javi eating whatever treat Adam has brought him from dinner; going through their bedtime rituals, and then lying in bed together. The constant humming that Adam does, probably without even realising it, keeps echoing in Javi's head during the day when he works. It's a pleasant distraction, as well as the little fantasies that fill his head.

The weather turns very hot, so that there is hardly strength to do anything but lie on the deck. All the windows are open in Adam's cabin, but it's still hot. Lying on his side in bed and waiting for sleep to come, Javi can smell that even Adam smells of sweat now. His chest is glistening with it in the moonlight. Not a stale, pungent smell of unwashed, hardworking seamen, but something heady and earthy. Javi moves an inch closer. His tongue lolls out and he feels like a dog panting in heat. What would happen if he moved closer and licked Adam's bicep? What if he pretended he was moving in his sleep and just rolled on top?

Unexpectedly, Adam speaks, not asleep like Javi thought.

”What happened to you? How did you end up on this ship?”

It feels safe to tell it. Adam is so accepting of everything, speaking so passionately about how everyone should just get to lead the life that suits them.

”I was caught with a man.”

There's a sigh and Adam turns on his side. ”I suspected. It seemed like serious trouble, but you're not one to harm anyone. Life can be hard for people like us. Are you devout?”

”Not really. And I don't think God is intolerant or hates me. I think... People have twisted it. Preachers do not speak in God's voice. They speak only their own thoughts.”

What would an intolerant God think of the impure thoughts Javi was having just a moment ago? It's better not to bother his head with it.

”I'm Jewish,” Adam says.

”Oh.” There's a lot of prejudice in his own country towards Jewish people after centuries of mass exiles, murders and forced conversion. Hardly any are left now, but he has met some in other port towns. It doesn't change his opinion of Adam, other than makes him more sympathetic because of the prejudice Adam must have encountered. ”It makes no difference to me.”

”Thank you. I was raised Jewish, but I don't express it and I'm not devout. Mostly I don't make a mention of it. Did you love him?”

”Huh?”

”The man you were caught with.”

”I might have, once. It's hard to say now. He betrayed me. But I enjoyed his attention.”

”I see,” Adam whispers.

Javi gets lost in thought, only to suddenly wake up sometime later. It's still dark. There's a damp feeling in his groin. Touching the shirt reveals a wet spot.

 _How embarrassing_. A wet dream right next to Adam. But did he dream of Federico or Adam? It's uncomfortable not to know.

Trying to be quiet, he gets off the bed and tiptoes around the cabin. He wets an edge of the shirt in a washbasin and wipes himself. The shirt he puts on the chair next to the door—he was going to wash it in the morning anyway. His spare shirt is stored in a chest that always makes such a loud creaking noise that Adam would surely wake up, and it's so unbearably hot that he just climbs back to bed.

In the morning, the first thing Javi is aware of is a tiny squeaking sound. He cracks his eyes open enough to see Adam turned on his side and looking at Javi's body. The squeak may have come from Adam's throat.

Quickly he closes his eyes again and pretends sleep, not quite sure why. No, to be honest, to make Adam continue looking in peace.

He can hear Adam's breathing and some shuffling. It's quite hard to lie still, a tingling sensation going through his body. It's a good thing that he's already hard, because going from soft to stiff would surely cause some movement under the quilt. Maybe Adam can see the outline of Javi's desire anyway. He _wants_ Adam to touch.

It's getting harder to breathe calmly. Adam must sense that Javi isn't asleep anymore, because there's a lot of movement now. Javi creaks his eyes open more and sees Adam sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to him, brushing his hair back.

Javi fakes a yawn.

”Morning,” Adam says. ”It's hot.”

”Yeah.”

He puts his undergarment and slops on, quite ready to go wash himself and the clothes. Before doing so, though, he eats his breakfast slowly without a shirt on. The clean one is in the chest, he'll get it in a minute. He's not sure what he's doing; it feels like the tension has ratcheted up. By the sound of it Adam cleans himself up at the washbasin, and then he's sitting there filing his nails before going to breakfast, glancing at Javi. Adam's tongue is peeking out from the corner of his mouth. Javi lets his eyes wander daringly, to the junction of Adam's legs.

Adam is Jewish. It must mean he's...

Does he have the courage to look back into Adam's eyes now? He does, and Adam is looking at him, and—

Terrance throws scissors and a barber's razor on the table with a noise, startling them both.

”I'm trimming your beard after breakfast, Adam. It's getting long.”

Javi gathers his clothes and takes off.

It's hot enough that quite a few passengers venture out onto the weather deck, some walking under parasols and enjoying the breeze. Even Adam is in his shirtsleeves and vest, having abandoned a coat. Watching him talk with the other passengers, looking so handsome in his lace shirt, beard newly trimmed and soft hair tied back, reminds Javi that there are actually people on board who are more worthy than him to be talking to Adam.

”I see your master over there,” a voice says close to Javi, and it sends a shudder of revulsion down his spine. ”He tired of bum-fucking you yet? He's probably looking for another hole to stick his pole into. Come to me when that happens, sweetie.”

Jack walks further away slowly, making lewd gestures and swirling his tongue in a disgusting way.

An arm falls over Javi's shoulders, but only for a second. ”Is that him?” Adam asks.

For all that Adam is so good at comforting Javi and cheering him up, he really doesn't seem to get that Javi wants to be touched. Now that he thinks about it, Adam hasn't touched him after learning of what was almost done to him. Javi takes the arm and pulls it over his shoulders again.

”Don't go say anything. It's not worth it, he doesn't matter. Hate doesn't get to win.”

He's squeezed tight against Adam's body for a while, the arm heavy over him, and it is the best thing.

\---

That night, listening to the creak of the ship and the splashes of waves, looking at Adam's sleeping figure puffing out soft breaths, Javi comes to a conclusion. Adam is never going to touch him. Not when he's holding onto his promise of not doing so, if he's thinking Javi doesn't want that sort of attention after what he's been through.

But Javi has made no such promise of not touching Adam.

He throws his shirt off and moves closer to lean over Adam. Supporting himself on his elbow on the pillow next to Adam's head, he starts stroking the soft hair slowly, his thumb brushing over Adam's hairline again and again until the eyes open. Nothing happens for a while, until Javi leans close to brush his lips over Adam's parted mouth. He does it again, tongue dipping in for a taste.

”You don't have to do that,” Adam whispers in a sleep-rough voice. ”I'm not asking it of you.”

”I'm asking you,” he says before pressing their lips together again and splaying his fingers over Adam's chest. He throws his bent leg over Adam. ”I'll die if we don't.”

Fingers slide into his curls and Adam pulls Javi's mouth against his.

”You'll die?” Adam asks kissing him, and oh, it's so...

”I just really need to touch you,” he gasps against the lips, hearing how the softness of his accent is coming through stronger than usually.

Adam kicks the quilt to the foot of the bed and then Javi is pulled fully on top. A high-pitched sound leaves his throat, and he reminds himself not to scream, as much as he'd like to. They're pressed together, his heated groin pressing against Adam's, and every brush of his hard length against a thickening one is like a firework to his system.

He's wriggling and writhing on top of Adam, stroking their legs together and grinding his hips down, enjoying every contact of their bodies. But mostly the contact of their mouths, slick and warm and tasting like Adam.

”I've already died,” Adam whispers, hands all over Javi's back. ”A thousand times wanting to touch you.”

”I'm going to bring you back to life,” he says before engaging in a slow, deep kiss. A kiss of life. Adam's hand moves lower, stroking the curve of his buttock, exploring fingers brushing against his inner thigh. He moans when a tip of a finger brushes the side of his balls, his hips jerking. The world tilts, and then he's on his back, Adam kneeling between his spread legs.

Moonlight reveals the shape of Adam, and the thought of that bulk pressing him into the bed makes Javi squirm. Adam resists attempts to pull him closer, though, and only trails his fingers along Javi's chest.

”You're so beautiful. Don't move,” Adam says and crawls off the bed.

Javi has no intention of going anywhere, but he grabs his own hair with both hands and pulls a little to calm himself, taking deep breaths. Adam is moving around the cabin, and then there's suddenly light, Adam lighting a lantern on the table. Javi looks at the naked figure, tall and slim yet pleasingly big and full in places, his beard and hair looking dark again in the faint flickering light.

Javi's hand slides down his chest to wrap around his hard-on and give it a couple of strokes.

”Come back to bed,” he says. It makes an obvious shudder go through Adam. _He did that_.

Adam does as told, eyes fixed on him, and now Javi can see the evidence of Adam's desire clearly. It makes his own length twitch visibly. He wants it. In his hands and mouth, in him and against him. But the way the hair in Adam's groin is trimmed very short gives him pause. It makes him embarrassed of his own hairiness, black strands of hair left to grow freely. He didn't know trimming it like that was the fashion. He wouldn't have access to scissors or razors for that anyway. Imagine going to the barber-surgeon to ask him to trim his bush. Is cutting it short like that the fashion in London?

Adam kneels on the bed, puts a jar of something on it, and then lies down half on top of Javi. Having Adam in his arms again makes him less awkward. The kiss is intense, and it flows into continuous kissing, the wetness of it making Javi's toes curl and hips rub up against Adam.

”So beautiful,” Adam says into the kiss again, fingers tracing Javi's jawline. Slow kisses follow their path. ”Like a beautiful sea creature. Rising out of the sea to seduce me.” Lips and beard against Javi's neck.

It definitely feels like Adam finds his chest pleasing, and then fingers slide slowly down into the hairs on Javi's groin. The fingers start petting his skin there right above his hardness, scratching the patch of hair. It feels like he's on fire, his panting ridiculously loud. If he had any worries about Adam finding him unappealing, they disappear when Adam leans in and presses his entire face there, breathing in with his mouth open.

”Oh, _God.”_ He's grabbing the bedding. It's Adam's _mouth_ in there, and it's the most shocking and intense experience. Adam's face moves lower, rubbing the beard and his open mouth everywhere, leaving tracks of wet saliva at the base of Javi's cock and over his balls.

Then there's wet heat around his cock. It's possible he's in heaven. He concentrates on not coming, but the way Adam is sucking is making it difficult. Slurping and licking the shaft for a while before sucking the head back in, alternating like he can't get enough.

”Adam. Adam.”

Adam looks at him and clears his throat. ”You alright?”

Javi nods and strokes Adam's hair and cheek, wiping away a smear of wetness from Adam's moustache with his thumb, which receives a little kiss. He lays his hand on the bed palm up and makes a beckoning motion, keeping at it until Adam is standing on his knees and brings his hips closer, closer, until Javi's fingers grip the hard shaft. Had Adam not told him he's Jewish, now Javi would know anyway. It's fascinating, and even if all he's heard is Catholics speak about it in loathing terms, thinking it abhorrent and somehow making you less of a man... It's not like Javi cares about what 'a true man' should be like and look like. It's hard and alive in his hand, bigger than his. The skin feels hot, the balls underneath tight and heavy.

”It's lovely,” he says and looks up at Adam, who is looking at him with his mouth open.

A familiar short giggle leaves Adam's throat. ”You're lovely.” Adam hands him the jar.

Javi slicks his hands with the oil in it and then starts touching, gripping the base and sliding his hands up, left and right hand following each other so swiftly there's hardly any break in between. Adam is moaning low in his throat. Javi's rhythm falters when Adam leans in to kiss him hungrily and pull him on his knees. But he can manage both, kissing and keeping his hands busy, especially when the effect it's having on Adam is so beautiful.

”Feels so good. _Javi_...”

It drives _him_ crazy, standing on his knees and rubbing his own hardness against Adam's thigh as his hands work, his mouth doing its best to keep up with Adam's kisses. He squeezes harder, now pumping with one hand, until he really can't take it anymore and releases his grip.

”Now, now.” He turns around and drops down on his stomach, legs spread and ass pushed high. It feels incredibly vulnerable, but in an exciting way.

The sound Adam makes is something guttural, and then there are oily fingers in _there_ , rubbing slowly, and he had no concept it would feel that good. The only previous times he's tried this, it hasn't been that good, although he's had the vague idea that it should feel a lot better—why else would men engage in it, risking so much?

Adam leans over him and waits until Javi looks at him. ”Tell me. Tell me if it hurts. Tell me to go slower.” He's looking so cute and sincere. But when it comes down to it, Javi doesn't say a thing, mouth open in shock as he's getting filled, rubbing his cheek against the bedsheet. Adam is nuzzling his hair and kissing his earlobe, pushing inside until they're altogether joined. Javi moans weakly.

Adam straightens up, gripping Javi's hips and pulling them higher while he begins to thrust. The bed creaks and they freeze. Another thrust make it creak again and they both snort. There's just no helping it, there's no way in hell they're stopping this. The bed's rhythmic creaking blends in with the steady creak of the ship, the slapping of skin and their little noises.

Adam is touching him all over while fucking him, holding his hips, then smoothing his hands over his lower back. Then Javi can feel the warm hands press his cheeks gently together, and Adam makes such a small pathetic sound that Javi grins into the pillow. Adam keeps squeezing the cheeks for a while, until one hand slides under Javi to pump his cock. Soon he has to swat the hand away, or else he'll go off, and he doesn't want it like this.

”Wait, Adam.”

Adam stops deep inside him, hips jerking as if involuntarily, making Javi moan.

”I want to look at you,” he says. ”Sit down.”

Adam pulls out slowly and then by the sound of it falls over on the bed, losing his balance. Javi laughs into the pillow. Sliding his hand between his legs and touching the place where they were just joined reveals that's he's slightly open and slick with oil, if not with Adam. He shakes his hips from side to side slowly.

”You're killing me,” Adam says behind him. ”I swear my heart is going to fail me before I manage to bed you.”

He scrambles up and turns around to find Adam sitting on the bed with his legs slightly spread, his cock jutting up red and swollen. Adam is looking at Javi like a puppy, a little mournful and pleading.

Javi takes support from Adam's shoulders and straddles him, slowly, slowly sinking down until he's sitting on Adam's lap.

”Are you mad at me because of how much you want me?” he asks grinning.

”Yes,” Adam squeaks out with his eyes closed. ”You've put a spell on me. Sea creature. Siren.”

He presses close, rubbing his hardness against Adam's stomach and grinding his hips down.

”Don't they— _ah_ , don't they lure men by singing? That's you... You're the siren. I heard you before I even saw you.”

Adam's eyes are playful when they open, and a sudden thrust up makes Javi gasp.

He starts stroking Adam's hair, looking into the big open eyes while tightening his muscles, moving slightly up and down. Everything is suddenly so overwhelming that Javi's throat is tight. This is the act of love that he was dreaming about. Safe and secure in Adam's arms to enjoy toe-curling pleasure and to drive Adam crazy with it.

The kneeling position is starting to ache, so he lifts up a little to straighten his legs and then wrap them around Adam. Adam's hands go to cup his buttocks, palms almost covering them, squeezing and lifting him up and down a little. This way, Adam reaches even deeper inside him, and they can be completely wrapped up in each other. They kiss, Javi's cock spreading wetness between their stomachs.

All sense of time gets lost, kissing and moving against each other. It starts so slowly, a tingling feeling somewhere at the base of Javi's spine, that it makes him almost afraid of how intense it is going to be. He pulls back from the kiss, staring at Adam while it builds up.

”Adam,” he says, alarmed and not knowing what to do.

”Shh. I've got you.” Adam lifts him slightly and thrusts up into him faster, the wet slapping of it too much.

He's grabbing and squeezing Adam, thrashing in the embrace and almost scratching Adam's chest. Javi doesn't know if he's trying to burrow closer and get Adam deeper or trying to get off, until the peak of it makes him shout and throw his head back, wet release shooting out between their bodies. Adam is making choked sounds, pulling Javi against him and hips jerking up. It feels like the thickness inside him gets even bigger, twitching, and then there's a feeling of warm wetness. The hotness of it intensifies his own feeling of pleasure.

They're panting and grunting from the effort, little shocks going through their bodies.

After some time Javi slumps against Adam, lying his head on Adam's shoulder. Adam is stroking his back, rocking them slightly from side to side.

”Do you know what Pothos means?” Adam asks after a long while of silent caresses. Javi shifts a little, and it makes the softened cock slip out of him.

”The ship's name?” Javi mumbles. ”No.”

”He was the god of desire and longing. One of the gods of love who served Aphrodite.”

”Oh. Maybe we should worship him.”

”Maybe.”

”Do you really find me pretty?” he asks, words slurring even more.

Adam's shoulder jumps under his head. ”Yes. But it's not the most important thing about you. It's like I dreamt you up. I was dreaming of someone like you, and here you are.”

He should ask what else Adam likes about him, then, hungry to hear flattery, but right now he needs to sleep. He kisses Adam's shoulder and then pushes until Adam lies down on the bed, so Javi can arrange himself to curl up as the little spoon.

\---

”So.” Terrance is leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. ”When Adam first told me I shouldn't bother bringing bedding for Javi on the deck, I assumed things had progressed to you two making passionate love. I was mistaken, but this time a deaf man could have heard your moaning and grunting.”

Javi is sure he is beet-red.

Adam merely grimaces biting his nails. ”Was it really that bad?”

”I'm just joking,” Terrance says and rolls his eyes. ”I heard it, and who knows about the Captain, but I doubt anyone else. There's too much noise on a ship. Something should be done about that blasted bed, though. And yes, I'm happy for you. Breakfast?”

This time Javi gets sent off to his day's work with multiple kisses, the last one exchanged with Adam pressing him against the back of the door.

”I could pay for your passage. So you wouldn't have to work anymore.”

”I... I don't know if I can accept that. Besides, I think I would get bored without doing anything, when you have to go to dinners and such with your equals.” He cups Adam's cheek for a moment.

”Think about it at least,” Adam says. ”I'd do it happily. And... I may have a surprise for you this evening.”

He starts working smiling stupidly. When he enters the cabin that evening, he finds Adam alone.

"I told you I'd show you some of the things I bought."

Adam is fully dressed in an outfit like Javi has never seen before. He thought the velvet breeches were tight, but these light blue silk breeches are the tightest Javi has ever seen. Adam's... Maleness cannot be missed. The coat is the same blue, but shorter than coats he's normally seen. A flowered, brocaded waistcoat underneath. A lace neckcloth, a flower arrangement made of silk flowers on the lapel, white silk socks, and the shoes... The heels are _very_ high. The most surprising thing is a short sword hanging on Adam's waist. After looking all over multiple times, Javi looks at Adam's face again. His cheeks look rosier than usual, maybe some added blush there.

"It's the kind of style the Macaroni wear. I know it's a bit much, but at least I left out the wig. They wear these ridiculously elaborated and tall powdered wigs, and I'm not really used to them..."

Javi comes closer, stopping right in front of Adam, who is now even taller than before.

"You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

There's no reply, only an intake of breath from Adam, his eyes boring into Javi.

Javi's palms slide up the silk-clad thighs. Up, up to the buttons of the waistcoat, which he starts opening. Adam makes a sound. Buttons opened, Javi pushes the coat off Adam's shoulders and puts it on a chair. Then the waistcoat comes off. The cuffs of the white shirt underneath are ruffled. He starts opening the buttons of the shirt, but once he's opened a few of them, he sees there's another garment under it. There shouldn't be?

He glances at Adam, but Adam is just looking at him and breathing heavily. So Javi continues unbuttoning. What's revealed is a white corset. Javi pushes the shirt off and lets it drop on the deck. He stares, and stares. He has been around and seen enough to know what a woman's corset usually looks like. It is shaped like a waistcoat, or more like the front of a dress, so there are straps that go over the shoulders. A corset covers a woman's bosom either fully or at least by half, to give support for the breasts during the day. He's not sure whether this particular garment is especially made for a man, or whether it looks so different on Adam because it is a man wearing it. It has no straps, and it starts right from underneath Adam's pectoral muscles, pushing them up ever so slightly. Just like on a normal corset, there is a criss-cross lacing in front, and there must be another on the back so it can be tightened on both sides.

”The... The Macaroni wear them. I almost didn't buy one, because I don't really have the body for it. _You_ have the ideal Macaroni body shape. But I ended up buying it, and—”

”Shh...”

Javi slides his hand down the front of it. The bulge is even more obvious now, and before opening the breeches, he smooths his thumb over the silky bulge a few times. Adam takes the sword off, and Javi lets the breeches drop, as well as the long silk drawers underneath, freeing the stiff length. Kneeling down, he takes off the socks and shoes, until Adam is wearing nothing but the corset. He puts his hands on Adam's sides and looks, smiling from seeing how aroused Adam is.

He leans in.

” _Aah.”_

Suckling one of the hard peaks like a babe seems to feel very good to Adam. So he repeats it on the other one too, Adam's hands in his hair, until he's pulled away.

Adam strokes his face, tracing his eyebrows, sliding his finger down the bridge of Javi's nose. Javi tries to bite the finger, not really, but snapping close to it.

”Uh-oh. Is it a wild sea creature that I let into my bed?”

”Maybe,” he says grinning. Just because it fascinates him, he starts opening the lacing in the front of the corset, pulling the silky strands and loosening it from the top, so he can slide his fingers inside. When his other hand trails down Adam's back and reaches the end of the corset, discovering the soft curve there, his eyes start fluttering shut. He grabs it with both hands now, sinking his fingers into it and feeling very needy.

”I'd like you to make love to me,” Adam whispers.

Javi opens his eyes. A cute man in front of his face. Looking at him so cutely. Javi leans in to kiss a freckled lower lip. Somehow, this feels weighty.

”You don't... You don't ask this often, do you?”

”No.”

He hugs Adam, one hand still petting the supple curves.

Once they're on the bed together, Javi naked and Adam still in his loosened corset, he takes the opportunity to put his mouth everywhere, taste everywhere. It's fragrant-smelling salty skin, heavier musk in Adam's crotch. When the stiff length is in his mouth, he thinks he's found his addiction. It makes him look into Adam's eyes helplessly with his mouth full, sucking so that there's saliva sliding down the shaft. He's not used to this, so it's probably not very elegantly done. It's likely his face is red, and when he lets it out of his mouth to breathe more freely, there's more spit hanging from the corner of his mouth. Adam starts to move, and Javi panics that he's pulling away, so he follows the cock with his mouth open and tongue ready, panting loudly.

He takes it into his mouth again, feeling his own hardness twitch.

”Good?” Adam asks in a choked voice, and Javi glances into his eyes and nods.

”Mm-hm.”

After that Adam keeps babbling, but it sounds like nonsense and it's hard to pay mind to it. It's hot and twitching in his mouth. He doesn't stop until Adam actually grabs his own cock to pull it away.

Adam's expression resembles that of a fish, gaping at him. Javi licks his lips.

”I—” Adam starts, but then just slumps back into the mattress and spreads his bent legs. ”Leave my poor cock alone and put yours inside me and come here to kiss me.”

He bursts into laughter and kisses Adam's knee.

”Where's the oil?”

He gets no coherent answer, but it doesn't take long to find it. Sliding a finger inside the hot opening feels incredibly intimate. It makes him question if he can even do this, if he's good enough. But he wants to, and Adam spreads his legs more. Another finger goes in, and Adam's back arches off the bed a little. More so when Javi pushes deeper and crooks his fingers a little.

”Please.”

He replaces the fingers with the tip of his cock, and Adam lifts his bent legs into the air, spreading them more. The push in makes Adam close his eyes, breathe in a stupidly long breath, and then let it out slowly. It feels like Javi sinks in without even meaning to, the tight muscle around him relaxing, and suddenly he's all in, trying not to come from the hot pressure around his cock. He leans over Adam to kiss him. He can feel the corset against his stomach.

”I'm in you,” he says, smiling and rolling his hips just slightly

” _Si,”_ Adam whispers.

It's like a burst of joy inside him.

” _Si mi amor.”_

Adam's mouth parts. Javi takes a swallow realising what he said.

”I love you,” he says.

Adam's arms are a vice around him, pulling him as close as can be, and Javi's mouth is claimed.

”I love you,” Adam says with gasp, releasing Javi's lips. ”You're mine. My little dove.”

He doesn't know what to do with this man, but he buries his face in Adam's neck, and a hand on his buttock encourages him to start thrusting harder. Not long into it, Adam keeps making whining noises with every breath when he's not babbling how good it feels. It's accompanied by the creak of the bed. Javi has lost all capability of speech; his hips are thrusting independently without any higher thought, seeking bliss. He can't stop it anymore, only piston into the tight heat until his whole body goes rigid and the release pumps out of him deep inside. It gets even tighter around his cock, and it's only after a while that he realises Adam has found his release too, fingers wrapped around the length.

 _Love_. He's in love, and he's loved. It's simultaneously the most exciting and the safest thing that's happened to him. Also the scariest, because now he's not sure how he could live without this love.

They must have fallen asleep for a while, when a steady sound reaches his ears through his sleep. It's knocking—a disorienting sound reminding him of the world outside this bed.

”What is it?” Adam yells.

”A storm approaching, sir,” a muffled voice comes through the door. ”All passengers are required to remain in their cabin and to secure any loose items. The crew is required to return to duty.”

”Don't—” Adam stares at him, his face gone pale.

Javi looks out of the window, but it's already pitch-black outside. However, now that he pays attention, the sea has definitely turned rougher, the rocking of the ship stronger.

”I have to go help,” he says. ”This could be serious. If it's about our survival, I need be there. I'm still part of the crew.”

”I'll come,” Adam says unlacing the rest of the corset and throwing it off.

”They won't let you. Terrance won't let you. _I_ won't.” He's already pulling his clothes back on. Then he kisses Adam, who's in the midst of pulling the nightgown on.

Opening the door reveals the deck swarming with men in action, rain splattering on it. Lanterns are swinging wildly wherever they have been hung. The ocean is a rolling mass of blackness. Before Javi is completely out, his arm is grabbed.

”I'm not going to lose you now,” Adam shouts. They both stumble when the deck suddenly tilts. ”You tie yourself to a mast, or I'll kill you!”

It's not the time or place to laugh or start pointing out how contradictory Adam's words are, so he nods and pulls away.

”There you are!” Esteban yells. ”It came out of nowhere.” A wave crashes against the side of the ship and throws water over them. ”I need to go reef the sails!” Javi watches as Esteban starts climbing to a mast, where a number of seamen are already rolling and folding sails. It seems impossible that they're staying on, with the ship already rocking so much, wooden surfaces slippery with water.

Javi doesn't have that kind of experience, he can't do it. Instead, he's told to start tying anything that's loose and rolling and sliding all over the deck. First, though, he lifts the chicken and geese cages higher and ties them tight.

”The Captain is steering us right to it!” the Quartermaster yells into Javi's ear. It sounds insane, but Javi knows the reason. They need to take the waves on the bow of the ship, not on the sides, where the force of them could knock the ship over.

The waves are impossibly large now, and it takes effort to stay upright on the deck. The waves splash against the ship sending sea water all over the deck. With trembling hands Javi ties a rope around his waist and then around a mast. It's none too soon, because the largest wave yet crashes into them. Javi loses his balance, swallowing water as it splashes over him. Before he falls onto the deck, he sees the water wash something overboard. He tries not to think about it.

Someone grabs his arm and pulls him up, dragging him to a pump on the deck and yells him to pump. He does as told, pushing the handle down and pulling it up, pumping water out of the lower decks, where it inevitably seeps into. It's dangerous if the ship gets filled with it too much.

He pumps until his entire body is screaming for him to stop, losing his balance every now and then, spitting water out of his mouth. At last the rocking of the ship seems less insane than before, the waves not quite reaching the deck anymore.

He's slumped against the pump when Esteban finds him.

”We lost two.”

”What?”

”Two men went overboard.” The thought of getting washed off the deck and into the nightmarish black abyss turns his stomach, when none of the rocking of the ship had. ”Jack was one of them,” Esteban says quietly.

Javi sits down on the deck. It's. It's not what he wanted. He can't say it's justice. The other seaman could have been a perfectly decent man, and even Jack could have gone onto do something good in his life. Something bad too.

He sits on the wet deck for a long time, staring at the emerging light on the horizon. The next person to find him sits down behind him and pulls Javi against him.

He startles, glancing around the deck, at those seamen not lying on it dead-tired, who are busy trying to mend broken things.

”Are you crazy?” he whispers.

”I don't give a damn,” Adam says into his ear and pulls him closer. At least Adam is dressed now and not in his nightgown. ”Thank you for tying yourself. I might have jumped after you otherwise.”

”Don't be so dramatic now,” he says and leans his head back against Adam's shoulder. ”You wouldn't want me to do that if the roles were turned. Let's just love each other while we're both here.” But he knows what Adam means; a little while ago he was wondering himself how he could live without this.

Adam squeezes him tight. ”I'm paying for your passage, though. I already told Sutan when I passed him. _Voilà_ , you're a passenger now.”

”Oh, fine. Thank you.” If it makes Adam happy then Javi is fine with it, and besides, now he feels like he can actually accept gifts from Adam; they're lovers.

”That means you can join us for breakfast. I'll lend you clothes. I'm dying for a cup of coffee.”

”I've never actually had coffee,” Javi says musingly.

”You. What?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being very unimaginative and putting Javi repeatedly through night-time storms. It just happened. I did a lot (a lot) of googling, but this is still littered with inaccuracies, both intentional and unintentional. For example, corsets were not called corsets, they were stays, but it would have been clumsy to explain it. Also, even though I find historical slang terms for sex and genitalia delightful, I'm not going to use them in every situation and call a man's bits his battering piece and nutmegs. (If you want to amuse yourself, here are links to various charts of different terms: https://io9.gizmodo.com/three-timelines-of-slang-terms-for-having-sex-from-135-1608522982)


End file.
